adventures


19
Aug 24

#GoRenGo

Some many years ago I had a brief passing thought about a photograph project. What would it be like to shoot all of the rust? It has a certain beauty. It says, well, a few different things, if you contemplate it long enough. It’s also everywhere.

And sometimes, I find myself staring at a bit of rust.

When I do, I think of that passing thought. How long would that take? And who are you kidding? How many things would rust away by the time you got back to the starting point? Saturday, when I was looking at that bridge, I wondered, wWhat does all of the rust in the world weigh?

I was staring at that bridge while my lovely bride was checking in for her triathlon. She did a half iron this weekend.

The half iron includes a 1.2 mile swim, in a river, this time. Here, she is exiting the water right on schedule.

Immediately after that, there’s a 56 mile bike ride.

  

She dropped her chain, and said someone swung out in front of her and ran her off the road. She was OK. At least two different people were less fortunate, and had accidents involving cars. Excellent job securing those semi-controlled roads by the race organizers and local authorities.

And after that 1.2 mile run, and well-paced 56 mile ride, she had a half marathon to wrap up the event. Here she is setting out for the run.

  

She had a great swim, and she was pleased with her bike ride. But she did not care for her run. Aches and pain and no shade and so on and so forth. Nevertheless, when she made it to the line, she finished with a smile.

  

And that’s her fifth 70.3, to go alongside her three Ironmen triathlons. And wraps up the best part of the season. I think she has one or two more runs scheduled, just for fun, but everything is for fun from here. (It should all be fun, I say. Finish with a smile, that’s what I say.)

On the way back home today, we stopped at this place. ‘

Because, look, when you tell a trusted friend you are driving through her native neck of the woods and she simply replies that you have to go eat at this place, you take the advice.

Our trusted friend was spot on with that recommendation.

Today was a long day in the car; there was a lot of reading Wikipedia to pass the time. Tomorrow, it’ll be back to work.


13
Aug 24

Two nights and one day

Late last night, technically early this morning, I took out the garbage. (Now, isn’t that a way to start a post!?) And it was there that I coined a new phrase. That phrase is “Anything worth doing is worth doing with an LED light.”

The expression came about because I didn’t have my phone on me — always when I need a camera. So I went in to grab my phone, which made me realize that it was too dark to capture my subject. So I went back inside for a camp light. Because somehow, in the darkness, I saw this guy.

My new friend stuck around for quite some time, posing up a storm, allowing me to photograph him in profile. When I turned to get those head-on shots, it got curious and started walking toward me. On the fence post the mantis got bold, and turned to reach out to me. Unfortunately, for the brief moment the air sparring went on, I was unable to get the auto=focus on the phone to cooperate.

And then the mantis jumped, flew, or fell off the post. I was careful, walking away, to make sure it wasn’t underfoot.

I was called for jury duty today. I wasn’t called today, but I had to report today. They called me a month or so ago. It’s an interesting process. I received a postcard in the mail. Log in to the site, create the 4,397th password in your life. Watch a poorly produced 28 minute video extolling the very real virtues of our judicial system. Log back in to the site and certify you watched the video.

You are informed you’ll get messages, via email and text, on when to report for jury duty. And I was told it would be yesterday. But Friday I was told to report today, Tuesday. At noon, thankfully.

They could have said 1:30, because that’s when we finally got pulled into a courtroom. This after checking in and two rounds of taking attendance. People of all ages remember how to say “Here” when their name is called.

People sat quietly, scanning their phone, reading books and so on, and then a deputy who takes his courthouse duty Very Seriously commanded us to go upstairs to the courtroom. So we did. A moment later he came in and said, no not this second floor courtroom, but the courtroom on the third floor. And, thus, he lightened up a bit and found himself able to make a joke or two. Meanwhile, I’m thinking, someone in the courtroom upstairs is potentially counting on some of these people.

We made it into the courtroom. Two prosecutors, a defense attorney and his client. The judge and three clerk/staff members. Two deputies. On the way into the room we received a pencil and a seven-page document. These were the voir dire questions. The judge explained a few things, had us watch an even lower quality video, and then read the entire seven-page voir dire document to us. Then, he brought in the partial jury. It seemed they need to find four more people. So the clerk would call a name from this selection pool, and the person would go the bench. They played white noise in the courtroom so the rest of us couldn’t hear the private conversations. This went on, one by one, until the jury was full.

My name did not get called. At the end of it, it took about three hours, the judge said our service was fulfilled and thanked us. Everyone fairly well scrambled from the courtroom, as if you’d pulled a fire alarm.

The trial is scheduled to run through mid-September, which would have been a problem at work, so I’m glad I did not have to go through voir dire. Just as well. It’s a double murder trial. As I’m no longer under consideration for the jury, I tried to look it up, but it was four years ago in a virtual news desert, so there aren’t a lot of details available.

Tonight, we went outside to see if we could catch the end of the Perseids. It was a perfect night for it. Nice and mild, with a beautiful cricket symphony coming from our right.

I saw two, maybe three. My lovely bride saw four.


1
Aug 24

New stuff in the routine

At the beginning of each month I do a lot of important and boring things. I create a few new subdirectories for the site. I delete a bunch of stuff from the desktop of my computer. I update a document that holds a lot of standard code shortcuts that I use.

And so on. It is all terribly exciting.

One other interesting thing that I do is update the images on the front page. The rotating photos now feature a small piece of something we saw in California this spring. Head on over to the front page to check those out. It’ll take you 54 seconds for the rotation to carry you through. We’ll be right here when you get back.

My joking complaint about triathlons is that they start too early. We need hobbies, I say, that cost less and don’t start at dawn; if they don’t require too much running, more the better.

So, last night, because the story of this day began last night, as so many of them do, my lovely bride told me that she’d signed up for a super sprint triathlon she found a half hour away. And would I like to go? Also, the race started at 6:30 in the p.m.

Since that was my complaint, it seemed only fair that I should go in support.

Super sprints are short, but I had a long swim the day before, and I haven’t run in a while, so it’s just support, and that’s probably for the better. I’ve done one super sprint, thinking, at the finish line, that I am not able to get everything going in the right direction in those short distances.

Which is a shame, since they are shorter, and I am slow.

But I am a great observer of races. I am well practiced in this area. And, of all of the races we’ve done, I don’t recall having seen one with a flyover.

She’s out there, somewhere. She’s the one swimmer among much of the thrashing. It was just a 500 meter swim, and even then, the water was shallow enough that some of the dudes just stood up in the last 50 or so and waded in.

They all looked gross. This little pond is fed by this, South Branch Rancocas Creek. And it isn’t as nice as you might imagine here. There was a fine black particulate. The Millpond mildew. Something thinner than rubber, and thicker than dust, clung to everything. Whatever was contracted from this event will be given a name in due time.

The bike leg, she said, was nice. Good pavement, fast roads.

  

The run was one big loop. Neither that, nor the bike ride, would wipe away that stuff that latched on to everyone in the water.

When we left, because it was an early evening tri, we timed the sunset just right. I liked it. Almost didn’t take it. But I did, and I’m glad for it.

We celebrated with Chick-fil-A. The triathlon, not that last photo.


18
Jul 24

Flower photos and plant peektures

Up dimly lit and early this morning. Everything went according to plan, despite the cats’ best efforts to get in the way of things. Just one of the cats, actually. You’ve got a 50-50 shot at guessing, and I don’t think you’ll need a hint or odds. If you’ve been paying attention you can guess which one.

You’ll be right.

We had breakfast at a local diner. It was fine. Some diners are better than others, I’ve learned. This one was OK. The cheese in the omelette was the best part, though the paper place mat told me they have all-you-can-eat chicken pot pie on Wednesday evenings. I don’t know how much chicken pot pie I can eat, but I might find out one of these days.

Being up early meant I got to enjoy a nap today. That means I’ll be up all night.

Let’s have a look at a few more of the flowers in the backyard.

This is a scarlet beebalm, or a crimson pincushion, or a wild bergamot. I’ve no idea, they all seem to look the same.

I didn’t notice it last year, I think it might be a weed — so the bergamot, maybe. My horticulture teacher in high school would tell you that weeds are only weeds if you don’t want them. Whatever is undesirable is a weed. If I say the beautiful roses are undesirable and the pokeweed is what I want, I’ll eventually never have to think about weeding
again. (I never think about it now.) That teacher is a preacher now.

Look at this hibiscus go!

The brown eyed susans are getting a lot of attention.

The butterflies aren’t the only ones. And beyond these bumblebees there are other bees and things I can’t identify.

And I’m thinking about sending a media release on this one. We have figs!

Now I have to learn about harvesting figs. And I must also do some weed-eating.


11
Jul 24

We forgot our brooms

After a leisurely day around the house, I’ll give you one guess about where we went this evening.

OK, I’ll give you a second guess about where we went this evening. You’re sure to get it from here.

(Click to embiggen.)

Thursday night is theme night, I guess. And it was also inexpensive ticket night. So we semi-spontaneously went across the river and spent some time at Citizens Bank Park. We watched the great Shoehei Ohtani go 0-4 and saw Aaron Nola scatter four hits and two walks across six innings as the homestanding team beat the not-very-well-liked visitors 4-0. Brandon Marsh hit a home run and charted a triple to right, Trea Turner recorded his sixth home run in nine games. And just after I took that large photo (seriously, click it, it’ll open in a new window and you can scroll around) Kyle Schwarber hit a baseball a very long distance, as he frequently does.

The good guys won, 5-1. It was a series sweep. In a related story, after a two-inning battle I defeated the sunscreen that oozed into my left eye.

Did you notice the new graphic up there? The blue one? I’m updating a few of those as I go. And, this evening, as we were leaving the park, I had the opportunity to get a nice skyline of the city.

I was, of course, photobombed.

It was a delightful night over the river. Except for the sunscreen incident.

We’ll be back over there in a few weeks. Not eager to repeat the same mistake, I’ll be sure to have a new skin protection strategy by then.